I'm Glad You Came
by twinkletwinkee
Summary: "Even the thought of not seeing Shizu-chan hurts." blind!Izaya Shizaya. Drrrkink fill
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**Summary:** "Even the thought of not seeing Shizu-chan hurts." blind!Izaya Shizaya.

* * *

**I'M GLAD YOU CAME**

_A normal meeting gone wrong. __A disintegrated chase with a low life gang._

_ "Tch. Humans sometimes play so low." _

_A smirk. A laugh. _

_"Humans never fail to surprise me."_

Izaya Orihara, informant extraordinaire, found himself being chased by some random low life thugs for the umpteenth time, only this time he had been outnumbered. What started out as a normal meeting between Izaya and the leader quickly crumbled into a chase for his life, it seemed that the filthy thug was offered something of more value than the Orihara's information – drugs was it…? – and betrayed him agreeing to turn over Izaya Orihara's head to someone else who held a grudge.

_Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday,_

_ It was blurry._

_Friday Saturday Sunday,_

_It was dark. _

Some stupid chemical was sprayed to his eyes and Izaya gave a smirk to hide his smudging vision as he stood up. He was known for fleeing but the cheating scumbags won't have it that way. Flicks of his switch blade combined with his parkour skills saved his ass but the dirty concoction of unknown substances spread to his eyes like pollution.

_"The chemicals…destroyed your optic nerves." _

_The voice was distant but he felt a hand on his shoulder, _

_ "I'm sorry but…you won't be able to see anymore."_

Of course. he put it off.

His pride would never allow him to consider himself invalid or disabled. He didn't want other people's help because he could very well take care of himself, blind or not. It wasn't other people's business if he bumped into walls or stumbled into some stupid table unless those _concerned _fuckers would miraculously bring back his sight, which they could not.

But he wasn't a miracle worker; and try as he might, he found himself unable to sustain his normal life. He didn't want Namie chiding him as she tried to bandage up the spot where he accidentally poured his cup of tea. He felt the onslaught of nausea as he begrudgingly lean on his secretary's hand as he attempted to climb the stairs. He hated, hated, _fucking_ hated admitting the fact that he needed Namie's help just to read the unread messages in his phone.

_It is baleful to think that he needed to depend on anyone aside from himself._

Izaya depending on someone else?

_Izaya Orihara depending on someone else?_

_"You're firing me?!"_

_"I'm blind Namie, not deaf. Could you please lower your voice down?"_

_"Why would you fire me?! You can bar-" _

_Even without his sight, Izaya could clearly see her hesitation. _

_"Izaya…You-"_

_And that's more than enough to disgust him. _

_ "Thank you for your hard work Yagiri-san, your retirement check is on the table."_

"Shit!"

Izaya found himself cursing for the third time as he bumped into another chair that caused him to fall flat on his face. Just two days of Namie not assisting him and he could have sworn he earned himself fucking hundred of bruises. He felt pathetically hopeless as he remembered that Shinra would drop by in an hour to fix him a decent dinner. Because the fucking first time he tried to turn the stove on, he almost got roasted his arm if not for Shinra uninvitingly barging into his door after three unanswered knocks.

Since then, Shinra made it his personal job to visit the informant daily to bring him food and to attend to his needs, much to Izaya's chagrin. He didn't need anyone's fucking pity even though he's pitiful by definition. He would lovingly and adoringly shove that shit down to anyone's throat who dare try pity him and he would cackle like a madman as he listen to them choke down on their own bullshit. What he fucking needed is to have a new pair of eyes or better yet to have his eyes back.

The informant couldn't fathom why Shinra would _persistently_ and willingly insist on taking care of him. No matter what he did, what tantrum he threw, what threats he used, how many times he tried to stab him; the little shit would just laugh and pat him in the shoulder.

_"If it makes you feel better, I'm charging you insane amounts of money." Izaya's frown deepened as Shinra guides his hand to sign the paycheck. _

_"You leaving me the fuck alone will definitely make me feel better."_

_"And have your apartment set on fire."_

_"I told you to fuck off and I don't see you fucking off."_

_"Of course not."_

Izaya's head snapped as he heard his front door clicked. He's fucking starving and it's about time that little piece of shit bring him his dinner. He stood up as he reached out his left hand to try to feel for the walls to guide him on his way to his front door. At these times, he almost regretted the fact that he had an enormous place. The raven haired man took small steps as he tried to avoid bumping into anything because he had enough bruises, thank you very much.

However, as Izaya made his fourth step, he noticed that the usually boisterous doctor had not uttered a single syllable. He stopped his tracks as he felt his palms sweating cold. Of course it was no secret to him that he had made thousand enemies, so he was one hundred fucking percent sure that if any one of them got to hold of the information of his blindness, Izaya Orihara would be a part of history.

Swallowing the developing lump in his throat, Izaya tried to take his chances.

"Shinra?"

His worst fears were confirmed when deafening silence answered his ears.

The raven haired informant evaluated his options, which was more of in the realm of survival. Damn it all to hell, if these fucking retards thought that he would go down without fighting or that they would see the great Izaya Orihara on his knees and begging for his pathetic lif-

"Flea?"

And Izaya could have sworn he felt his spine freeze and the world stop spinning.

**TBC**

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A/N: This will probably stretch up to four or five chapters. Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**Summary:** "Even the thoughtof not seeing Shizu-chan hurts." blind!Izaya Shizaya.

* * *

**I'M GLAD YOU CAME**

_**Chapter Two**_

Time flew by like sand drip-dropping through the narrow tube of an hourglass and when the clock ticked, Izaya felt like he was going to suffocate. The air was dead and everything was still. The informant would like to say that this situation was what's stealing his breath, but it's been so much more than that.

"What are you doing here Shizu-chan?"

It's how his heart thumped wildly like a madman out in the chase, it's the cold sweat staining his palms, it's the tremors and shudders running down his spine, it's the exposure of his vulnerability. It's the feeling of helplessness overcoming his entire being and destroying him little by little. It's the darkness that robbed him of everything and anything he had worked hard for. It's been damn too long without his breath.

"…You… you're…you're blind."

Now, for now, Izaya knew that everything had gone wrong. It made sense that something had gone wrong, and now it made even more sense because everything wasn't going in the right way. And when he knew it, his inside twisted and turned, and the sound of his breath mixed with the fucking protozoan's words. The informant clutched his stomach, feeling briefly nauseous. Because he understood very well what this kind of feeling was and because he understood very well that it was fucking disgusting.

"That's a great observation Shizu-chan! Con-_fucking_-gratulations." Izaya chirped. He removed his pathetic grasp on his stomach as a snicker echoed throughout the room. The hiccup of giggles that shook the informant's body sounded so strange to his own ears. He felt sick. So sick that he wanted to laugh out loud at the ridicule of it all.

_So sick that somewhere betweeen his twisted and quiet laughter,_

_it hurt._

This, too, was just another example of self pretense.

Izaya had acknowledged it even before the barely audible shuffling of shoes resounded in the deadly silent room. The protozoan had been quiet throughout the whole ordeal, yet he could taste the man's uneasiness through the air that was pouring down on his skin like disgustingly cold water. Izaya understood and despite that, he kept his smirk in place as he waited, allowing himself to feign ignorance for once.

He didn't want _anyone _to see his downfall.

It was as simple as that, and while the raven-haired informant acknowledged that he was being an egoistic bastard, he also acknowledged that he had already been humiliated more than how much his pride could take. His ego was the only thing he had. Now, upon the realization that he was being forced to give that up, he figured that it was fine to pretend for once.

If it meant that he was able to hold himself together like a desperate god again, then Izaya didn't care.

"What the hell happened to you?"

The question served its purpose of startling Izaya from his thoughts, and he laughed once again. It made sense that something had gone wrong, and it made even more sense why everything wasn't going in the right way. So as he tried to put the shattered pieces together, it only made sense that he would once more fall apart.

"Ah, Shizu-chan cares for me!" Izaya replied merrily, carefully taking a step forward. His frail hands reached up forward as he tried to find his way towards the living room couch. After several attempts, he was able to settle himself down as Shizuo repeated his question, growling the words.

"It's none of your fuck – "

"Shut the fuck up," Shizuo growled making Izaya falter, "Answer the fucking question, flea."

"Would you lend me a hand? I'm starving and – "

"What the fuck happened to you?"

Izaya fell silent, realizing that Shizuo would not listen to a word he was saying. The informant tossed his head back and smiled bitterly as he folded his arms against his heaving chest. The ticking of the clock continued to echo in the background and Izaya was suddenly too aware of the silence and the onslaught of suffocation took him again.

_"Why does it matter to you?"_

He refused to say anything after that, making the debt collector give up, walk out of his apartment, and close the door firmly with a dull click, leaving the informant alone with his own thoughts and the droning ticking of the clock.

Shinra arrived sometime later, but Izaya was too drained to consume anything that the underground doctor brought. When he was asked what happened and why his door knob was crushed beyond recognition, the informant gave a small laugh and shrugged his shoulders.

_"A dog came, sticking his nose in something it doesn't belong to."_

_"Ah."_

A week had passed since the incident with Shizuo. Izaya was well aware that the doctor was not all ignorant about what happened, but he was thakful enough that Shinra kept his fucking mouth shut and did not ask any other questions. His pathetic life continued on, Shinra delivering his food and him signing obscene amount of paychecks.

But today, as Izaya quietly ate his dinner, it seemed that the doctor was getting tired of their silent charade and decided that he had all the motherfucking rights to know what transpired between the two mortal enemies, much to Izaya's chagrin.

"So, Shizuo came to visit?"

Izaya completely ignored the hesitant question as he chewed his food carefully. The raven-haired man told himself to keep chewing, keep quiet, that he didn't give a damn, but he had to stop and tilt his head up as he placed the dish aside.

_"What did he tell you?"_

_"So he really did come and you're still alive, amazing!"_

_"Fuck you. What did he tell you?"_

_"He didn't tell me anything. He's just acting...weird. And kept on asking about you."_

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**Summary:** "Even the thoughtof not seeing Shizu-chan hurts." blind!Izaya Shizaya.

* * *

**I'M GLAD YOU CAME**

_**Chapter Three**_

Loneliness was not something new to Izaya, but somehow he had forgotten the dreadful void and relentless ache brought about by the dull darkness engulfing him. He felt cold, and even with the jacket draped over his form, he found himself rubbing his arms to create some needed warmth. Still, it was unbearably cold and he had no one to talk to. That was fine with Izaya though, because he didn't want to talk. In fact, he would rather everyone to just leave him alone. At least that way, he would still be able to hope, still be able to delude himself that these suffocating feelings were temporary, fleeting.

He vaguely wondered how many months had passed since he already stopped counting the days. Despite that, he still needed to remind himself to breathe. Inhale, exhale. Breathe, he just needed to remember to breathe and he would be fine. Even, steady breaths. If he tried hard enough to focus on the sound of rushing air and the feel of his lungs expanding, the world would dissolve away. Just breathe – inhale, exhale… inhale, exhale. The task was easy to perform, but with each steady rise and fall of his chest, he found that breathing had become a chore. He wanted to stop, but it seemed that breathing was the only thing he had control of now – he couldn't let go of that.

_'Just breathe,' _he reminded himself,_ 'breathe'._

_"How about surgery or shit like that?"_

_"Well – "_

_"Will it bring back my sight?"_

_"– severely damaged – currently no known treatment – even transplant – impossible" _

Even without his sight, he could feel some familiar burning in his eyes. He's not quite sure if it was because of the sleepless nights or because he was on the verge of pitiful tears. When he lightly touched the corner of his right eye, it was surprisingly dry. The realization made him chuckle softly. His pride was one funny thing, he had expected himself to shed a tear or two now.

Abruptly, the soft chuckles stopped and the silence was screaming loudly at him. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Izaya bit his lips harshly almost making them bleed. He wanted to scream, but he settled on breathing.

His chest hurt – but at the same time, it felt so empty.

Feeling his body becoming more restless, Izaya gave up on his attempt at sleeping. No matter how much he rolled around and tried to get comfortable, his body didn't want to relax. He stood up to leave the comforts of his living room couch, choosing instead to roam listlessly around his apartment. His steps were careful and calculated to avoid the dangers of tripping and this only made his chest hurt more. When his outstretched hand felt the foreign rough texture of the apartment door, he decided to go out for some walk – maybe that could tire him out.

"Where are you going?"

The familiar voice and smell of burning cancer sticks overwhelmed Izaya's senses and he found it a little harder to breathe. The informant took a deep breath and he tried to breathe as steadily as his trembling body would allow. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; when he exhaled for the second time, it was with a wheeze. It took all of his energy to keep his breathing even. Although he tried to keep his breathing paced and even, he could feel the leaps his chest gave from trying to fill his lungs.

_'Breathe,' _he told himself, _'breathe, breathe, just breathe.'_

In the quiet hallway filled with only the sound of his own stuttering breaths, it was impossible to ignore the chills running in his already fragile form. It was disgusting, and although he wanted to focus on his breathing, his attention always turned to the glaring thumps his heart was making. For a few moments, neither of them spoke and Izaya could only hear the sound of his breathing. He briefly wondered if the other was breathing too – if he was, Izaya couldn't hear him.

Faintly, he heard the other ground out a begrudging, 'I'm talking to you, flea,' before there were soft sounds of footsteps. The soft and almost musical pattering brought down upon the ground like a ghostly rhythm to a song echoed loudly in Izaya's ears, deafening him. He continued breathing.

In, out… in, out…

It was the last voice he wanted to hear. He closed his eyes and pretended to disappear because he didn't want to be seen while he was so weak – it was pathetic, especially when he's being seen by someone so incredibly strong. The soft pats persisted and they were becoming steadily louder until all at once they stopped. Although he was too tired to do so, he willed his lips to twitch and smirk at his visitor.

"Shizu-chan!" Izaya called in as happily as he can but even to his own ears, his words sounded like a gasp.

"Where are you going?"

"I believe the question is 'What is Shizu-chan doing here?'" Izaya chirped, an artificial smile forced in place which drained the energy he barely had. When no witty retort was made to answer his comment, he sluggishly closed his apartment door firmly. He bit his lips because he was weak and he was useless – he hated that Shizuo would see him again like this; it was humiliating and he just wanted to disappear. Why couldn't he disappear?

They both lapsed in to silence and Izaya's chest heaved with labored breaths and his eyes stung. There was an onslaught of a developing migraine and his stomach churned with nausea. He took an experimental step and his left leg buckled under his weight with that forward movement. He couldn't breathe but he needed to get away from Shizuo and from the rest of the world. He wanted to be alone; he couldn't allow anyone to see him fall, he just needed to get away. One more step, one more step; but his feet wouldn't move and there was that tightening in his chest, pounding at his temples, and the searing nausea. But those were all unimportant. All that matters in this moment was to get away and for his fucking feet to move.

Izaya gritted his teeth and grinned, waving his hand in a brief movement as if to assure the other party that nothing was wrong. He could still move and he was simply feeling weak and that's what was preventing him from taking a step. But nothing was going right and when he tried to take another step, he found his knees buckling causing his inevitable fall. Although a strong grip hastily hold his waist to catch him, Izaya's stomach continued to plummet. Because Izaya understood and it was fucking disgusting. Shizuo was trying to be sympathetic, and it was revolting. He didn't want anyone's fucking sympathy, he wanted them to leave him alone. Izaya didn't want fucking any of this. And if Shizuo thought that this was his business right now, he was dead wrong.

For the first time since this game of masochism began, Izaya snapped.

"Don't you fucking dare touch me!" Izaya spat, trying to scream in protest but his words came out with a hitch of breath. His shoulders were shaking and everything was obnoxiously tense. It was physically paining him to talk – to be here, to go through all of this. He couldn't understand why he was so disoriented and why the fuck this man was here. His mouth twitched as heavy knots burdened his chest. He took a moment to steady himself but his hitching breaths seemed to echo in the bare hallway and the shoulders that shook didn't seem to calm anytime soon.

_"Are you going out for a walk?"_

_"Leave me alone."_

The brisk winter air hit his face harshly once he stepped through, but he didn't mind because it was nothing in comparison to the chill that had been in his apartment. They started walking at a languid pace and he allowed his mind to wander. He wondered why Shizuo was with him, probably walking at his side. He wondered if the debt collector was planning to kill him, why wasn't he asleep, if he was cold. Izaya thought of stupid things without catching himself, and when he did, he frowned and asked himself _why. _It was not like he cared about the brute or was especially close with him; he had no reason to be thinking the way he was.

Breathe. Inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale.

The offensive suffocating cigarette smoke filling his nostrils was something close to comfort for him. And Izaya couldn't help furrowing his eyebrows as he distracted himself and focused his attention to the ache in his chest he was becoming all too familiar with. Izaya let out a small sigh because he was clueless about what to do. He was so used to jabber on and on about nothing, shooting insults and barking out everything he knew that would annoy Shizuo. But now, there was only that melancholic heaviness that never existed before all of this derisive reality. When he heard no form of speech from the blond, Izaya quietly stopped on his tracks.

"…Why are you here?"

The question made him feel strange for some reason. Nevertheless, he impatiently waited for Shizuo's reply. He was about to fire an insult of some sort, but that one soft clicking of the brute's tongue made the words die in his throat. Suddenly, Izaya didn't want to hear the answer to such a simple question.

"I don't know."

And Izaya knew that it was the truth.

Frustrated, Izaya raised his hands to run through his raven locks only stopping to harshly grip at the roots hoping that the sting will distract him from the forming lump in his throat and the burning that pricked his useless eyes. He gasped softly and it was far too close to exposing his desperation. He shook his head as he nearly begged. He had enough and both of them knew this.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

He didn't receive anything in response for a while and this broke the informant more. He let out a laugh that didn't display any degree of happiness. It was a poor collaboration of bitterness and grief. It was agonizing and hollow. It was a dead weight on his chest.

_"I'm not doing anything to you."_

_"Yeah? It would be easier if you were, though." _

**TBC**

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A/N: Thank you for reading. Here are a few announcement and messages:

1. I am really sorry for the late update. Apparently, my ignorance of medicinal situations screwed up the planned out plot of this story. I was on the verge of giving up and deleting this story altogether because of that.

2. Because of the changes in the plot, I think this story will probably be longer than five chapters. It's playing around ten chapters or so.

3. College is killing me so I apologize if I'm not able to reply to your reviews. I hardly have any free time and if I do, I use them to write an update or sorts. Hopefully, I'll be able to reply to your heartwarming messages.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**Summary:** "Even the thoughtof not seeing Shizu-chan hurts." blind!Izaya Shizaya.

* * *

**I'M GLAD YOU CAME**

_**Chapter Four**_

It's the second time they went out for a meaningless walk and this time, Izaya was too tired to refuse Shizuo's pitiful invitation. They were sitting on a park bench and Izaya was holding a styrofoam cup of coffee, earlier handed by the brute. Idly taking a sip from his coffee, he purposely left the lid on it to seal in and preserve the heat so he could drink it slowly like he always did. He knew that he probably looked like a wreck; bloodshot eyes from the lack of sleep and ragged in appearance. But that was what happened because he did not know anymore.

Izaya did not know what exactly he was supposed to be feeling – what proper reaction he should have to this kind of situation because he didn't feel anything. He was not angry or mocking, he was not depressed or cynical. He wasn't feeling anything in particular besides the small ache in his chest, and he was sitting there in every sense of melancholy. He was just numb.

"You never answered me." Izaya growled a little to himself as he cringed at how soft his voice was. He felt a knot build and tighten in his chest, his own words struck him a little too hard as he leaned back on the bench to mull his words over. He barely registered the way silence continued to reign over them and he thought that Shizuo might not bother replying back. After all, they didn't really have any conversations, often opting more to walk and sit in silence.

"About what?" The blond grunted back in response and Izaya emitted a small sigh as he tightened his hold on the cooling cup of coffee. All the while feeling the burn in his chest tightened its ugly hold around his heart.

"Why you're here."

The informant wondered what Shizuo was going to say in response. It's so expected – so natural, and he anticipated that the other would list off insults and reasons why Izaya should suffer and burn in hell. And he was hoping that it would be the case because Shizuo's shouted threats echoed in his head over and over in a way that drove him to dance with insanity.

"I told you, I don't know." Shizuo repeated as though he didn't hear him clearly the first time. Izaya barely slept three hours last night, and his tolerance was boiling away into apathy and agitation. He had about a collective of three hours of sleep ranged over the past three days and he never felt so tired and annoyed in his life.

If only to push the atmosphere to something more comfortably familiar, he would give anything to hear Shizuo roaring out his name in the monster's homicidal extremes. He just wanted things to go back to the way it was, even if he'd never be able to look at his adversary again.

_"Shizuo, you hate me."_

_"Yeah, I do."_

Things fall quiet once more and Izaya couldn't bring himself to care enough about how much time had passed. He was not even aware of what he's doing but his chest ached and he's flooded with so much fucking sadness that he's not even sure what to do with himself. The agony inside is so intense and painful that it almost felt physical. He was too tired and he hadn't slept and all he wanted to was to be back in his apartment and rest.

"I…I didn't think you would come back." And despite the softness of his tone, Izaya knew that he sounded raw and pained. The former informant wanted to laugh because he couldn't help thinking that not only did he look, but he also sounded completely and utterly pathetic.

A miniscule smile made its way to his lips as Izaya contemplatively waited for Shizuo's response – wishing, wanting – vaguely wondering how desaturated the city looked like. His eyes stung sharply and he chalked it up to not blinking enough and there was a lump in his throat that he had to swallow around. His head wasn't the only thing that hurt, but his chest as well. It seemed there was a black hole – wide, gaping, and sucking away everything until there was nothing left but raw ache.

"Izaya…"

Izaya raised his head at the sound of his name spoken to eloquently – so sorrowful. His jaw clenched tightly and Shizuo's voice was so fucking heartbreaking. Izaya was getting ready to spit out an insult due to how disgusted he felt about Shizuo calling him that way. But he couldn't articulate his thoughts anymore and his own grief threatened to choke his words off. There was pressure behind his ears, pushing down against the sides of his jaw at the way he was holding it all in.

"No one will think less of you if you cry."

The cold coffee hit the pavement and Izaya threaded his fingers through his hair in irritation. This was all going too far and he was not sure just how much he could handle. He considered bolting from the bench, just like that, but instead he found himself sitting rigidly, not moving an inch away from the man hurting him in more ways than one.

"You…bastard," Izaya started, he felt hurt by the debt collector's words, though he couldn't fathom why. His words felt misplaced – there were so many things that he wanted to say – he wanted to yell, scream, and slice the man to bloody pieces. But the pain inside of him held him back. Izaya fucking hated everything because he was so desperate for consolation for the grief he bore and he's clinging sharply and seeking refuge in the simplicity of Shizuo's inclination.

He shook his head and let out a short exhale that sounded something like a combination of an exasperated sigh and a curt mocking laugh. His eyes were starting to prickle again but he swallowed and held everything back as a full blown ache settled deep under his twisting insides. Yet, he couldn't let his turmoil show.

"What do you want me to say to that?" Izaya distantly murmured and his voice was rough as though it has been unused. And the more he talked, the more energy it was burning up with his fatigued and pained state. He was barely holding himself together – he wanted to get mad. For once in his life, he wanted to lose control and feel unadulterated madness drown his senses. It didn't happen, however. All he was left with is a hollow void that gushes and arduous ache that left him feeling desolately hopeless.

Izaya received no answer and the silence was screaming at him, the pain within it was too much for him to handle – he couldn't take this, not right now. As pathetic as it might be, he was not strong enough to deal with all of this. It was all too much at once. He felt absolutely desolate and he was not sure just exactly how he was supposed to accept this sort of reality.

"I don't know what you want from me." The raven-haired man settled on saying once again as he dropped his arms to his side, stance indicating a true desperation. He was desperately waiting for the other to speak – despite not knowing what he wanted Shizuo to say.

"Neither do I."

Izaya broke then, for just a mere moment as he let his frustration show in a form of a hysterical laugh that in no way displayed happiness. Regardless, he remained still because it was still too much. Ignoring Shizuo's answer altogether, Izaya asked once again, his tone low.

_"What do you want, Shizuo."_

_"I don't want you blind." _

**TBC**

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A/N: Thank you for reading and for the responses.

Also, someone sent me a message saying that the first two chapters progressions seemed too fast. So, in case many of you are thinking of it that way, please allow me to explain. Originally, I was planning for this story to stretch up to four chapters only hence the fast progression. However, in the process of writing the third chapter, I read some informative articles regarding the topic of blindness and I was so perplexed about the facts I was unaware of. Because of that, I was forced to reconstruct the whole story plot, making it longer than what I had intended. I couldn't take down the first two chapters though since many of you have read that already. With this, I apologize for the sudden change of pace.


End file.
